


Monster of the week

by depressed-sock (jinxedragon)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Episodic Chapters, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), dysfunctional found family, everyone is stressed for all the wrong reasons, tag warnings in begining notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25038364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxedragon/pseuds/depressed-sock
Summary: There's plenty of different Archives in the world. This one in particular just happens to be a special kind of mess that no one is expected to clean up. Unfortunately, no one is actually willing to tell the Archival assitants there that.
Kudos: 1





	1. The Woods that Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corwin and Jordan investigate an old statement in California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is entirely a self-indulgent throw a bunch of Oc's at the TMA world and see what happens lmao
> 
> Tw: dark and lonely fears, abandoning someone in the dark, brief mention of binge drinking, talk about feeling watched

_**Click.** _

“Investigation of _The Woods that Whisper_ brought to the Archives attention by a woman named Lilith Kingson on August 4th, 1950. Investigation begins on an unspecified date in 2014 because I’d rather not tell my boss exactly when I’m not in the Archives.”

“Certainly not because she’d prefer her precious Psychic-”

“Don’t Jordan.” They throw a glare at him as they let the branch they were holding for him go. Unfortunately, it misses its mark as he ducks out of the way responding back with a smirk and a shrug. “ _Anyway_... Investigation done by archival assistant’s Corwin Night and Jordan L. of the Magnus Institute, American Branch. And yes I do mean the _whole_ American Branch because really who needs funding, _Right_? Just put everything into one place that is definitely _not_ falling into decay and hope for the best!"

"Do you have to complain about this every time? At least we don't have to investigate from _there_ ," Jordan shivers as he finally catches up to them, rubbing his arms as if to brush away a chill that clings to him despite the sweltering heat of the day.

They snort in response, ducking under a low hanging branch while letting out a huff of laughter as Jordan doesn’t correct fast enough and instead runs into it. The hiking path they had found was much smaller than they’d have liked but with the woods almost seeming to be unnaturally overgrown it was really the only choice. "Oh no, we just have to go out and find the monsters instead of waiting for them to find us."

There’s a muttered curse behind them, “ _Technically_ you don’t have to Corwin. Remember you're our special little psychic.”

Somewhere in the back of Corwin's mind, they know Jordan's making faces at them behind their back as he says it. And right next to that place in their mind there are thoughts about how much they want him to trip and roll back down the hill. Both thoughts aren't helpful to the investigation, so they sigh and push them away.

“First of all," they stop turning fully back towards him with their arms crossed, "it's just a really shitty version of clairvoyance where I get a sense of danger and a flash of something that never makes sense. Second of all," they throw one more glare at him before turning back around, "my ' _psychic powers_ ' as you like to call them, are beyond useless with me just sitting still. _Especially there_.”

“Because it always feels like you're in danger there?”

They look back over their shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. A silent question of, _do you feel like that?_ Jordan just shrugs again in response but this time looks anywhere but at them. He's already looking like a mess of nerves and exhaustion. Like they've both been hiking for miles even though they've barely gone half a mile. Half a mile uphill, but still, they really need to get him out of the Archives more. Especially if he doesn't feel safe there.

They take a minute to really think about the question. Do they feel unsafe there? Honestly, not really. “I’d say it's more like I’ve never been able to shake the feeling of being watched.” Even being this far from the building, there’s still that feeling right on the back of their neck. Like someone’s been following the both of them. Watching from the shadows.

The accompanying silence speaks more than words ever could. Of course, they both know exactly why that watching feeling is there. Unintentionally joining a cult for a fear god had not been on either of theirs bucket lists and yet it had somehow ended up that way anyway.

At least their boss had been upfront about it. Gwendalyn had even warned them both that they might not be able to quit if they became archival assistants. Turns out that as long as there's not an Archivist in their specific archive, there was no real need to worry. Corwin had personally watched many people come and go as archival assistants. With only a few who ever came back to the position permanently until they either died or just mysteriously vanished.

Without an Archivist though, no one really focuses on bothering to keep the Archives organized. A pain for anyone actually searching for information or references but a blessing for those absolutely bored out of their minds. It’s become a game of pick a statement, figure out the fear, and if possible figure out a way to either beat it or save the people affected by it. Something that Gwen has actively encouraged everyone in the Institute to do even if they weren’t working in the archives. She'd even begrudgingly encouraged Corwin to do the same.

Corwin’s still not even sure what her interest in keeping them safe is. Everyone else says it's their abilities but they personally suspect that Gwen is setting them up for some kind of promotion. One which they'll politely decline in the end.

No monster hood for them _thank you very much_.

“So _The Woods that Whisper_." Jordan's voice cuts through their thoughts, "Such a spooky name that it almost seems too cliche. Is that what the witness called it or what the previous Archivist put it as?”

“Don’t know,” they shrug, “My bet would be the Archivist considering how many files are all sorted with weird names like that. I guess in the end it doesn’t really matter though, does it? Not like we’ve had an actual archivist in the last 60 years to explain it.”

“I heard it was longer than 60 years, which doesn’t explain _why_ we’re investigating an incredibly cold case. You do realize we still get statements from this time period right?”

“It wasn’t that long ago.”

“It’s literally from a time when the Institute _used to have_ an Archivist.”

They can feel him glaring at their back. So maybe it's a cold case that has no actual chance of repeating again. _It could happen_... In a one and a million chances. So maybe it's instead an excuse to be anywhere else while Gwen starts her monthly annual week of binge drinking and cursing out the London Branch and _‘that slimy bastard Elias'._

Her words, not theirs.

“You’re telling me the free trip back to California isn’t enough to satisfy you?” Their laugh strained as they stop to take in the view of the valley that stretches out from the cliff on their right side. “Oh wait, I forgot you just hate nature.”

He huffs a bit, breathing heavily as he comes to a stop next to them, “I wouldn’t say hate. Just respect for the fact that I was not made for hiking.”

They roll their eyes in response, passing a water bottle to him as they continue to take in their surroundings. The area looks nothing like how it was described in the statement but that was to be expected. Too many years in between then and their current investigation. It’s only the fact that the area feels like the statement that even tells them they’re in the right area. “We should make camp here. Supposedly we should start hearing it just as it hits nightfall.”

“Wait. Nightfall?” He stares at them, distress suddenly clinging to his words, “Please tell me we’re not staying here all night.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” They shrug off their backpack. Kneeling down to start double-checking their supplies and making sure they have enough flashlights and glowsticks. Getting caught in the Dark once was already one too many times for them.

“Corry please for the love of god tell me we are not staying here all night,” Jordan practically begs as he looks back towards the way they had come. His stance suddenly turning nervous, his feet shifting uneasily as he stands in place.

“I mean if you really want to try and navigate back in the dark?” they look up at him from their crouch over their bag.

He winces, gaze now eyeing the nearby cliff with trepidation. “Fuck.”

“Seriously, I’ve got enough flashlights to light our way back. We should be fine if you really want to.”

“Do you think it’s that... Whatever it’s called, Dark fear? Or something else?”

“Honestly? It’s got elements of it but I think it feels more like the Lonely one. You’ve felt it since we got here, right? That bone-chilling cold that's more inside you than outside?”

“Was kinda hoping I had been imagining it but I guess I’d take that over the Dark,” he sighs, finally setting his own bag down with a heavy thump.

“Are you ever going to tell me that one? You don’t seem especially afraid of the dark.” They still haven’t found the glow sticks as they search through their bag. They know they’d packed it. _Canteen check, energy bars check, where is it?_

“It’s… not so much about being afraid of the dark, as it is a fear of not knowing what's _in_ the dark." He rubs the back of his neck as he sits down on a nearby rock. “Listen, I know it’s stupid so let’s forget I said anything.”

"It's not stupid. Fear is fear and we don't really get a say in what we’re afraid of. Also, if I'm wrong and it is the Dark I brought a bunch of glow sticks." _There it is_. They dig out a baggie of glow sticks from their bag, carefully handing the bundle to Jordan, "Not as powerful as a flashlight but less chance of it supernaturally going out."

Probably. They’re not going to tell him that though considering how tight he clings the glow sticks to his chest, shooting them a thankful smile.

"And if it's the Lonely instead, think happy thoughts?" He tries to laugh his nerves away but falters as he looks back towards the edge.

"No, I think it's more: think about someone or something you love." They sit back, looking up towards the sky while shielding their eyes. The clouds are already taking on a dangerous grey hue. Maybe they should have chosen a place with more stable weather.

“Okay I can do that,” he nods his head before another smirk makes its way across his lips, “Can _you_ though?”

They give him a look of mock anger, hand coming to their chest, “Jordan how could you say that! Of course my vindictiveness and hatred is enough to bring me back to annoy all of you. How could you _ever_ doubt that?”

His snort of laughter is quickly covered by his hand, “I thought you said love brings you out of the lonely?”

“I mean yeah, but it turns out wanting revenge on your _evil_ coworkers works too.”

“Oh, we’re all evil now? And have you even tested this theory?” He raises an eyebrow looking at them with knowing skepticism.

Just because of that One time… _okay_ maybe it was a little more than Ten times but still it’s not like they have any safe way to put theories to the test.

“Not exactly. It’s been years since we’ve encountered the lonely so no real chance for _me_ to test it. But I did dig around and find a statement about a guy who was so pissed off that he was missing a chance to rub something in his coworker’s face that he literally just walked back out of the lonely.”

“And was this statement real? Or did you not bother to even check?”

“Really who has time to check things like that?”

“Corry.”

“Jordan.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a barely held back snort. “You know sometimes I wonder how these fears have any kind of power compared to the power of your vindictiveness.”

“I mean _I’m_ just special like that. For everyone else though? There is a reason why there's what... 14? 16?” They pause quickly counting on their fingers before looking back up to him with a nod, “I think it’s 16 fear gods. A special flavor for just about everyone, and usually it’ll mix in other emotions to make the fear that much worse.” They lightly tap their chin for a second, “Or maybe it’s better to say that much tastier?”

“Right, ew. Also, I’m pretty sure it was 14, where’d you get the extra two?”

“Uhm, That one fear that mixes and matches all of the other ones together. Never got a name for it but I know it exists. Not entirely sure about the other one, just have a weird feeling about it. I don’t think it’s a normal fear anyway so maybe I shouldn’t count it.”

They lean back a bit farther, staring up into the sky as they try to remember why they counted it in the first place. Or even what it was. Maybe they had really just miscounted. It’s not long before they give up with a shrug.

“Well,” Jordan looks up at the clouded sun before looking back at his watch, “it’s only four o’clock and we’ve got till seven before the sun starts to set. Should we go over the statement again?”

“Depends… are we actually _Reading_ it or just reading it?” They scrunch their nose in distaste as they even start to think about it. Either way it wasn’t going to be pleasant but actually _Reading_ it was always the worst choice.

“I mean you did get a dusty old tape recorder out for this adventure, may as well _Read_ it.”

“Too bad I didn’t bring the statement then.”

“Good thing I did though.” Jordan reaches for his bag, unzipping it and immediately pulling out a manila envelope.

“Ugh, fine.” They snatch it out of his hand. Bringing out the lamented pages and quickly readjusting the order. “Statement of Lilith Kingson, regarding The loss of her brother on a camping trip. Original statement given August 4th 1950. Audio recording by Corwin Night, Archival assistant of the Magnus Institute, America. Statement begins: …”

They’d like to say that they are trying to read it, that the words are just a bit too cursivy to understand. But that would be a gigantic lie because in all honesty they’d rather just set the statement on fire, “ _And_ yeah nope I changed my mind I already hate this.”

Jordan laughs, “You didn’t even read the first line!”

“Listen this shit feels weird enough reading it in my head. I don’t need to read it out loud to know that the experience was _that_.”

“Oh my god. Give it here, _I’ll read it_.”

“Alright, your funeral.” They pass it back, or maybe it’s better to say they throw it back trying to rid themself of the pages as fast as possible. Unintentionally causing the pages to scatter to the ground.

Jordan shoots them an unimpressed look before picking them back up, “No matter how paranoid you are Corwin, reading the statements out loud does not kill anyone.”

“That we know of,” their voice a bit too high pitched as they shot finger guns at him.

Which Jordan only acknowledges back with an eye roll. “Supplemental. Audio recording now by Jordan L. because Corry hates you personally eye god of the tapes.”

“Don’t call it that, you’ll inflate its ego.”

“Yes, I’ll inflate the ego of a massive entity we can’t even begin to understand. _Of course_. What on earth was I thinking?” The sarcasm drips heavily from his voice.

“Oh fuck you, just get it over with.”

“Fine. Statement Begins: ”

_I didn’t know it would happen. It was just supposed to be a prank, a bit of sibling rivalry. It was just something we did. Alex would put salt in my drink when I’d complain it was too sweet and I’d get him back by throwing gum in his hair because he kept complaining about needing a haircut. Pranks. That’s all it was. Just a way to get back at each other when we got frustrated with how our lives were going._

_It was never meant to be harmful. But, admittedly, sometimes it did get out of hand._

_I just wanted to get back at him for locking me in the basement. It had been so dark, and I had been so terrified. It was like the walls had been closing in on me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Not even scream._

_He didn’t even apologize to me when he finally opened the door to find me broken down and crying. Wouldn’t even acknowledge it was him who had locked me down there. So I decided he needed a taste of it himself._

_It took almost a year of planning, but I’d finally had everything ready by the time of our annual camping trip. He didn’t even bat an eye when I changed the location and date. Just shrugged and said the view should be nicer from there. I almost wish he’d put up more of a fight against it._

_We’d arrived just before dark, with enough extra time to find the spot and set up camp. The spot had been well worn from previous travelers and right next to the cliff, looking out across the valley. A nice view but also one I knew for sure wouldn’t have the lights from any houses or other camps._

_Didn’t take us long to set up camp but the entire time something had felt… off. I’m not sure how exactly to describe it, it just was an overwhelming feeling that we were probably the only people on the entire mountain. It almost felt stupid to even feel that way because we had definitely passed other campsites on the drive up. Seen houses lit up and filled with families._

_We weren’t alone. But at the same time, I guess we truly were. After all, it’s why I picked the spot._

_It was nearing night and I’d finally grown uneasy enough that I decided to just put my plan into action. I told him I’d be just a second, that I had forgotten something in the car. And I left without even looking back._

_He didn’t even offer to come with me. But he’d also been in a strange mood all day. Looking more distant and less chatty than usual. I shrugged it off, thinking the drive up might have tired him._

_And anyway it wouldn’t matter. He’d wake up soon enough to realize I’d taken off with all the lights. Including the matches. He wouldn’t have been able to go after me once he’d realized what I’d done. It was a new moon that night, it would have been too dark to safely navigate the path. He would have to sit there in the dark, all alone, and wait for me to come back._

_I’d promised myself that if he started yelling, or panicking I’d make my way back. I just wanted him to stew in that feeling of being alone and helpless. Make him see what he’d put me through. So I waited._

_And waited._

_Until I was starting to finally feel that uneasiness creep back into my spine. Being alone for that long was too much for me to handle, so it had to have been too much for him to handle too, right? So I started making my way back, even when a sudden fog started to settle over the path._

_I should have stayed in the car. I knew better than to go wandering like that but I just wanted to see him again. To make sure he really was alright. I hadn’t heard anything from him, even though I expected to at least hear him cursing me out for taking the lights. Actually, if I really think about it, I didn’t hear anything. No bugs, no animals, not even the sound of my own footsteps crunching through the brush._

_I tried to keep on the path, walked slowly to make sure it was still underfoot and I hadn’t somehow gone off track because of the fog. I must have though. Because I kept walking and walking and I still hadn’t found our camp yet. It shouldn’t have been taking that long. We didn’t hike that far away from the road._

_I tried calling out for Alex but… It wasn’t him that answered. All around me I could hear people talking. It was like a crowd of people all mumbling at once in my ears and when I looked up from the path I couldn’t see them. There were shapes moving in the fog but I couldn’t make them out. They were just dark shadows against the white. It was around then I slowly began to realize it should have been too dark to see the fog like that. Even with my light._

_It was like the fog itself was just naturally that bright._

_It didn’t even dawn on me at the time that the shadows, the whispers could have been ghosts. I was just so desperate not to be alone. I called out again but none of them would ever get closer or acknowledge I was there. Just shadows talking in low murmured tones I had no hope of understanding. It was all words that weren’t really words. And I don't mean like another language either._

“Jordan.”

_It was… It sounded like English but it just didn’t form the words right. And it hurt to think too hard on trying to make them into words I could understand. I tried running at the shadows, tried to catch up to them but they always seemed to get further and further away. I’d finally gotten to the point that I didn’t even care about the path anymore, I barely even remembered where I was or what I was doing._

“Jordan, stop I think I heard something.”

_I don’t remember exactly what it was that broke me from the trance I seemed to have lulled into. I just remember the sudden feeling of missing my brother. I almost thought I could hear him yelling my name-_

“Jordan!”

It's the shaking that finally makes him realize that Corwin's in front of him, shouting his name while desperately looking back and forth between him and the forest behind them. His brain feels like it’s working through a fog. Trying to focus on the present, on Corwin’s panicked expression…

He’s never seen Corwin panic before. Not in all the years they’ve worked together. Not even after the doppelganger incident.

It’s that realization that finally that lets him focus a bit back on the present. On Corwin’s hands firmly gripping his shoulder, shaking him slightly back and forth.

“Oh… Uh, What’s wrong?” he tries to sound concerned, but it comes out more as a mumble of confusion. He blinks again, trying to will away the sudden haze from his mind but it’s still there. That need to finish reading the statement. _How had he forgotten this feeling?_ It's only been a few months since he recorded one.

“Focus Jordan. I heard something out in the woods.” They turn again, looking behind themself nervously, before turning back to him, “I’m getting a bad feeling, I think we should leave.”

“What? But-” he looks around then, coming to the sudden realization that it's now night. A _very_ dark night. “I thought you said it wasn't the Dark fear?!" His voice squeaks out, fear already starting to clutch at his throat.

“It’s not that kind of Dark don’t worry. I just didn’t realize it was a new moon tonight. We’ll be able to use the flashlights just fine but I think we should-”

The sound cuts them off. A low deep rumble that suddenly turns into a vicious snarl accompanied by sounds of something in the brush growing closer.

Corwin's face grows a shade lighter before forcing him to stand with them. A single command forced out through gritted teeth, “Run.”

_**Click.** _

.

.

.

_**Click.** _

(The sound of a car door slamming and heavy breathing fill the empty space until finally the car ignition is started.)

_(A man's voice starts to talk, wheezing heavily as if out of breath.) “Oh **don’t worry** it’s just the Lonely! That was definitely not the fucking Lonely Corwin.” _

_“To be fair the statement is definitely the Lonely. And anyway, how was I supposed to know that a Hunter was stalking this area?”_

_“What, you’re power didn’t give you a heads up?!”_

_“I already told you a million times that it was a shitty power and besides I don't think we were the prey it was after so we're fine.”_

_"Really?! Because it sounded really fucking close to gutting us."_

_"If it wanted us dead we'd be dead."_

_(A distant scream pierces the air. Causing a pause in the conversation.)_

_“...I can’t believe this, just… just **fucking** drive and get us out of here. And this fucking recorder is still on?!” _

_“What are you talking about? I don’t even have it anymore, I dropped it when we were running…That. That’s not the same one. I **swear** I only brought the one.” _

_“Right… Right, I’m just… going to go ahead and turn it off.”_

_**Click.** _


	2. Investigation of Why the Archive never stays organized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia wants answers, Corwin harasses I.T, Imani begins her slow realization of what she's gotten herself into. You know, just a normal day in the archives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: threatening of bodily harm
> 
> sections 2 and 5: stranger fear, harassment of a colleague, purposefully using the wrong name, mention of intent to gaslight, it/it's pronouns used
> 
> section 3: flesh fear, not actively descriptive but it deals with meat if you want to skip it.

_**Click. 1** _

“Investigation of Why the Archive never stays organized, brought to the Archives attention by me for the last _thirty years_." She stresses the words, trying to make her frustration clear to everyone who can hear her in the room. "Investigation begins on July 9th, 2014, and is being investigated by archival assistant Olivia Stanek.”

"So, first things first." She pauses, taking in a deep breath as her hands stay firmly clasped together before she finally releases her pent up anger with a quick movement. Standing up sharply and banging her hands on the desk. " _ **What**_ do you people not understand when I say to put things back where you found them!"

She turns with a barely held back growl, glaring at the now suspiciously empty room around her. "You fucking little cunts, I _will_ find you and I _will_ get you to leave my organization system alone!"

_**Click. 2** _

"Did you try turning it off and on again?" The man next to them sighs heavily, his shoulders already taking on a stiffness of agitation.

"Yes, Rupert. That was literally the first thing I did." Corwin glares at the blonde man who now decides to lean against their desk. His face forced into a quiet contemplating frown as he stares at the static-filled screen of their computer.

"My name is Rick, and did you click any suspicious links?" He glances at them, missing their glare that's turned into the perfectly innocent look of boredom.

"Do I look that stupid _Rupert_? Really?" They cross their arms over their chest defiantly, watching carefully as the man's frown twitches into a barely held back snarl.

He's already breaking down and the day has barely started. An accomplishment that's taken only a few weeks of patience and maybe Corwin is a little too proud of that.

" _Rick_. My _**name**_ is Rick. And," he sucks in a deep breath before blowing it back out, "You know what, _move_ I need to check the cable from the computer to the screen." He pushes their chair back without their consent, kneeling down under the desk to look for the cable.

The cable that they had purposefully cut with scissors earlier. After they unplugged it of course. They're not _that_ stupid.

"Why is this cut?" He brings half of the cable out, holding it up for them to see while he tries his best to glare them down.

An attempt that feels more like dealing with an upset child. So they treat him exactly like one. "If I knew that, why would I have called you?"

"You!” He bites back the rest of his reply. Taking a moment before he finally grits out, “Just use a different computer until I find a replacement cable!" He stands up fast and awkwardly, knee slamming into the desk and forcing out a string of curses before he finally storms out of the room in anger.

"You got it, Rupert!"

The scream of rage that follows is a lot more satisfying than they'd thought it would be. Maybe they should go out into the world and do this more often. Maybe it's their true calling.

"Was that the doppelganger thing? I figured it would have quit by now." Olivia walks up from behind them, coming to a stop beside them as she tries her best to force her greying hair up into a messy bun. "Or at the very least murdered _**you**_ next."

"Yeah, I think we need to start upping our tactics." They stare at the doorway he had left through an evil grin slipping free, "I say we gaslight it next."

She gives them a look of disgust, "Corwin really?"

They shrug in response, "It's not my fault it decided to kill and replace the I.T guy. Or that it's choosing to suffer by continuing to work here."

"Speaking of suffering. Where's the statement you were investigating in California?" She leans just a bit closer to them, her hand gripping the edge of their desk. While her eyes take in every aspect of their existence.

"I don't know. I put it back after I was done writing down the details I needed." Which is most of the truth. They put it back. Then Jordan took it back out and _then_ they lost it in California because neither of them wanted to go back to the campsite.

Corwin's not going to tell her that. At least not yet. Maybe when Jordan pisses them off at some point but right now they'll wait to throw him under the bus.

Even if she's towering menacingly ever closer over them, her voice a whisper of threats, "If I find out that's a lie, I will personally _hunt you_ _down_ and _skin_ _you_ for the Stranger."

"Right, you do that. It's been great chatting with you Liv, now if you don't mind I'm trying to make the doppelganger’s life a living hell."

**Click. 3**

"Imani! Do you know where the werewolf files got put?" Jordan's voice echoes through the room of filing cabinets. Well, she thinks room, but it almost feels like an endless warehouse at times. Like now for example. She's pretty sure she's somehow gotten lost even though she's exactly where she needs to be.

"Um, I think it's somewhere near me?" She responds a bit more quietly but nonetheless heard; the room already echoing with her voice. It's what she likes about this particular room, no matter how loud or quiet she tried to be if someone else was in the room they'd hear her. "Let's see, nightmares about trees, mutated frogs, hmmm oh is this…. WHAT THE HELL."

She barely has enough time to cover her mouth and nose with her sleeve, backing away but still not fully able to escape the smell that layers itself against her tongue.

"Imani?"

She gags, backing up further away. Taking a second before she feels safe enough to speak muffled words, "Why is there a filing cabinet that's filled with rotting meat? This is… oh gods this is disgusting."

"....Oh um, I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be in Artifact storage. One second, let me go get someone to come collect it."

Her brow furrows as she stares at the cabinet, confusion becoming more and more prominent, "What? Why is there supposed to be a filing cabinet full of meat in Artifact storage?"

"Good question! I have zero answers." Is all she gets out of him before she hears the door shutting behind him. How did he even find the door that fast? She’s never been able to find the door that fast in the last few months she's worked here.

When she had applied for the job she had thought she had known what to expect. Creepy things, supernatural things. Gwen had given her a full rundown of the fears and the possibility of not being able to quit. She knew what to expect.

But knowing and experiencing are apparently two different things. And she's pretty sure nothing could have really prepared her for… _this_.

_**Click. 4** _

“I’m thinking we need more empathy in the Archives,” Gwendolyn says, as she adjusts her glasses, though it seems to do nothing to help as she continues to squint at the paper in front of her.

Oliva feels her face crawling into a snarl in response. Her fingers gripping into the edge of Gwendolyn’s desk she leans against. “Which one of those little fucks complained about me?” She would be sure to personally show whoever it was, exactly how _empathetic_ she couldn’t be.

Gwendolyn turns her squinting from the page straight up to her with a look of amusement followed by an exasperated sigh, “Love, is there something I should be aware of if you think someone's complaining about you?"

Olivia glares down at her before a smile splits her lips and she lets out a bark of laughter, "Would I really need to tell you that bright eyes?"

Gwen's laugh is light, her eyes taking on a brighter sheen before fading to a dull grey, "No, I guess not. But I’m talking about empathy in general. Corwin seems more intent on harassing I.T than ever before, Jordan has begun to withdraw from people, Imani is starting a bad habit of asking questions she shouldn't, and you continue to be _you_.” The last part of her complaint dulled as she pries one of Olivia’s hands free from her desk, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“I don’t see how this is a problem?" She shrugs, not bothering to free her hand. "Everyone in the Institute is some kind of fucked up. So Jordan’s a little more untrusting of everyone and Imani is overly curious, she certainly wouldn't be here if there was no attachment to the beholding. It’s all problems that will eventually resolve itself.”

“I see you didn’t mention Corwin or yourself in that.” Gwen let’s go of her hand to set her glasses down. Quickly trying to rub the tiredness from her eyes.

“You love me just the way I am," she leans forward planting a soft kiss on Gwendolyn’s wrinkled brow, "and _Corwin_ is trying to deal with our doppelganger issue.”

She grins widely in response, “I wouldn't have it any other way Love." Before her grin turns into a soft frown, "So, it was one of the poor lads in I.T? Which one?”

“Gwen, you already know who. And do you really expect me to ever show an interest in learning anyone’s name or Identity here?” She doesn’t bother to add on the last of her thoughts; _considering how often people die._ Too often to really get attached anymore.

“As much as I love you all thinking I’m all knowing I truly am not. Honestly though, I don’t think anyone here really has bothered with that. The poor thing chose very poorly in any case. Not much fear to be fed on when everyone is either already a stranger or you just have a deep-seated hatred for everyone and everything here. Not to mention, every single member here has been estranged from anyone they could call family.”

She narrows her eyes at that, “You know I’ve always wondered about that.”

“What? Do you really think any sane person with love and support would ever continue to work here? Let alone apply for a job here?”

"What does that make us then?" She leans forward, arms resting on Gwendolyn’s shoulders as their foreheads touch together.

"Two old women who are deeply in love with each other and bringing terror wherever we go."

"You always do know how to sweet talk me. But I'm still going to strangle the first person who doesn't put a statement back correctly."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

_**Click. 5** _

"Alright, I've got your computer back in working order." The man claps his hands together, a look of accomplishment on his face.

A look that is quickly wiped away by Corwin’s own smile, "Great, but uh, something seems to be wrong with Olivia's computer now. Not sure what but it's stuck on this video and I can't seem to get it off."

"Why were you using Ms. Stanek's computer?" The man asks carefully. Lines of frustration already wrinkling around his eyes.

"Because you told me to use a different computer? Seriously are you always this forgetful Ralph?" They tut half heartedly with a shake of their head.

"What I meant by a _different_ computer, was one of the dozens we have that no one else uses. _NOT_ Ms. Stanek's.” They can almost see a static around him. A form that’s too long, too strange takes up the dark fuzzy spaces around him. It probably doesn’t even realize how badly it’s giving itself away.

"Well, I guess you should have been clearer then. Either way doesn't change the fact that the screen is still stuck on that video."

“I can’t believe this, why are you doing this?! I thought we were friends, Corwin!” He finally breaks, words echoing in slightly different tones against the emptiness of the room. They can’t help the sharp grin as it finally asks exactly the question Corwin has been waiting for. They stand from their chair, immediately crowding it’s space.

“See the thing is Ralph,” they lean in close, “I don’t have friends. So you being my friend is incredibly suspicious. _So suspicious_ that I may have to do something about it. And I’m sure you don’t want that, do you Ralph?”

It tries not to look intermediated by their smaller stature but fails as their eyes take on a dangerous hue. It’s voice comes out weakly, now a pale imitation of what it was, "my name’s rick..."

“No. **It’s not**.” _They know. They see._

It’s beginning to shake. Fear overriding its previous anger. Until finally it turns, fleeing the room. Not bothering to try and rebuttal them. A disappointing outcome to say the least. They had at thought it’d try to murder them. It’s why they didn’t point out the real reason they knew he wasn’t Rick.

It would have been funnier though if they had. They can already imagine what would happen. Watching the dawning realization on its face and it immediately looking down at his ID to find a man who looks vastly different than it. After all, everyone's ID photo on their work badges are all polaroids that have been laminated on.

Too many missteps from previous generations that made it necessary. At least it’ll make it easier to know if the doppelganger decides to switch to someone else in the Archives.

They wonder if it'll finally leave now.

Something in the back of their mind tells them it’s far too late for that.

_**Click. 6** _

"Jordan! Don't you dare run away from me you fucking little-"

"Olivia?" his footsteps slow and he turns back to face her with a furrowed brow, "I'm not running from you? We've got a loose artifact in the filing room."

"Don’t you dare start making up excuses!" She's still storming towards him, face scrunched in anger.

He should probably be afraid. Olivia on rampage mode always meant that someone was at the very least going to be severely injured. Mostly because some idiot didn’t take her threats seriously even though it’s been proven time and time again that her threats are 100% serious. But he's got far greater fears than anything she could ever do to him.

"I'm serious Oliva. Imani found the meat cabinet there." He holds up his hands in surrender but it does nothing to placate her.

"AND YOU JUST LEFT HER THERE!"

"Yeah? It's just the meat cabinet. At most it'll make her sick for a couple of days and then she'll be fine." They’ve all had to deal with a rogue artifact at one point or another. It was the archives own official... hazing? No, it’s not so much a hazing as it was just something that happened too often and the newbies didn’t know better yet.

"I can't believe this, you just abandoned your co-worker to an Artifact!"

"Olivia you've literally done the same thing to all of us. Live by example maybe?" He’s also pretty sure she’s killed people so he doesn’t really understand where this is coming from.

She stares at him for a long moment before her body immediately relaxes as if she’d never experienced anger a single day in her life. "Eh, who am I kidding, I honestly don't give a shit if you've let your paranoia get the best of you. Anyway, did storage move it there? Or did it decide to do that itself?"

"I'm not _paranoid_ ," he bites back. And what does paranoia have to do with leaving Imani there? She can handle herself, she doesn't _need_ help. "I haven't gotten to Artifact storage yet to find out."

"Right well you get that sorted, I'll go grab Imani out of there before we have to hire janitors." She pauses turning back with a glare, "By the way do you know what happened to the California statement you were helping Corwin with?" Her voice takes on it’s previous edge, eyes tightening in anger.

"No." He definitely does not know _exactly_ what happened to it. It could have caught fire, or could be buried, or ripped to shreds. He doesn’t even know if it’s still anywhere near that makeshift campsite.

"I'm _watching_ you, _little man_."

“ _Yep_ , bye Oliva.”

**Click. 7**

_(The sound of the air conditioning kicking on fills the room, accompanied by the sound of a man cursing under his breath.)_

_"Ah there you are-”_

_(The man lets out a barely held back scream, and something flatters to the floor.)_

_“Oh calm down, your name is Rick, correct?"_

_"Uhm...Yes, Ms. Gwen."_

_"Fantastic, I've been looking for you. Unfortunately, there seems to have been an issue with your work contract and you're now being transferred to the Archives."_

_"What! But. NO, I quit, I'm not going back down there with those **demons**." _

_"Oh dear. You **can't** quit. And I think you'll fit in just fine if you think them monsters of your equal." _

_"I-"_

_"No, hush now. If you kill any more of my employees, I'll have to let Corwin deal with you exactly how they wanted to and believe me. That young person is incredibly creative when it comes to killing your kind."_

_"..."_

_"So. Pack your things, and I'll get your contract sorted. Don't try to run, because" (a harsh bark of laughter fills the room.)_

_" **We'll find you.** " _

_(The man curses a bit more under his breath before heavy steps lead out of the room and fade away. The woman gives out an exhausted sigh.)_

_“I see you’ve started recording again. Preparing for an Archivist who’ll never exist? Or are you preparing for one that’s coming to visit?”_

_…_

_“I guess it doesn’t matter because we both know the answer to that don’t we.”_

_**Click.** _


End file.
